A Warrior's Struggle
by RedfieldRyanFreeman
Summary: Chris Redfield fights alongside his partners and battles an enemy of a different kind. The events of his past are impacting him in a new way. Staying alive hasn't ever been like this. PTSD trigger warning, gore, some pairings if you want to see them.
1. Chapter 1

Chris Redfield clambered over more debris in the narrow hall, the sound of his own blood hitting the cold cement under him was unnerving and to someone else the whole predicament in which he found himself at the moment would be enough to induce insanity. But this was Chris Redfield and he'd been, incredulously enough, trained for this. He could almost laugh at the thought were he in a different state or a different time but now he found it difficult to think or bemuse or even breathe without the intensity of the situation bearing down on him, crushing him.

Right now he needed to find his partner as soon as he could, so he limped along and the whole building shook with yet another countless explosion and he stumbled, the blood pouring out of his body at a rate which made his eyes flutter and his fingers and toes go numb but he couldn't pay attention to that now, his partner was counting on him.

The explosion shook loose more debris which he again had to clamber over which he did slowly and doing his best to disregard the mind-numbing throes which pervaded his entire body. The rock, concrete and pipes were jagged and he did his best to get over them but found his strength leaving his body and fell over the obstacle coughing and doing his best not to go down directly on his head. He tried to get to his feet immediately, pushing his body to its limits. Once he struggled to his feet, feeling as though he were almost standing underwater as everything seemed so far away and muffled, he swayed, took a step and another then found he could no longer stand or walk. He collapsed to his knees he then quickly held out his hands in front of him to break his fall to his stomach, he cried out in pain his hands impacted hard on the stone beneath him, he was almost positive one of his wrists were broken while saving his partner from more falling rubble.

Chris fought to see through blood dripping into his left eye from a head injury he'd received from a BOW, he wiped his head and struggled to take breaths through lungs that felt as if they were filled with jagged shards of dirty glass. His head spun as he fumbled for his handgun out of instinct. He tried to look out in front of him as well as around him but he lay on the concrete floor on his stomach and it was difficult to observe his surroundings even from an upright position in the dimly lit corridor. He knew there was something embedded in the pervading darkness and he raised his gun with arms that shook and felt numb. Chris kept his trained eyes directed in front of him and tried to keep his ragged breathing as quiet as he could but to little avail. He tried to aim but into sheer blackness, fired a shot into the dark and felt it land in flesh; he heard a claw click on concrete and could almost congratulate himself on his marksmanship, almost. He struggled to listen over his rasping, harsh breath for any other sounds indicating what or where the creature would be but heard no other clues. Seconds stretched on and it was only unchanging silent darkness that he could see in front of him. When he finally detected movement above him it was all but too late, he barely had time to roll before a thrashing licker landed right where he was not one second ago, he fired again missed struggled to coordinate his aim with his damaged body, fired again as the crimson creature lunged at him and struck it directly in its glistening head. This deterred it minimally but where its massive claws would've struck his face they gouged his arm, he grimaced in pain and quickly fired again as the creature was dazed, he tried to fire again but no bullet left the gun, terror coiled around his heart and throat as he tried to reload as fast as he could but the licker knocked the gun out of his hand with its massive tongue, and reared up to lunge at him. Chris snarled and grasped his combat knife as the creature landed on top of him, with one hand he held it back and with the other he fumbled to free his knife. He yelled out as the creature's claws dug into his chest, even through his vest, and he shoved the knife into its abdominal, twisting it further and pulling it out again and again. The licker was dying on top of him as he repeatedly thrust the knife, twisted it and pulled it out over and over. He gasped in pain as he pulled the dead creature's claws out of his chest and off of his bloodied body.

Chris was lying on his back now and gasping for air; he spluttered and coughed through his own blood and fear. He flipped over on his stomach and tried to prop himself on his elbows so he could get to his knees but his injuries were severely limiting him. He looked around him and couldn't find any strength left to move his aching body. He flopped back down on his stomach against his own will. His vision was getting darker and his breathing was getting even more ragged, he cried out in pain. He knew he would black out soon, maybe even for the final time but he struggled against his own weary fatigue and pain accomplishing little as every move he made seemed to cause him unrelenting pain.

"Chris get up!" An all too familiar feminine voice called he snapped his head up to see the source.

"Jill?" He muttered before he coughed up more blood. How could she possibly be here, she was supposed to be hundreds of miles away on a different continent. Her blue lithe figure shimmered in front of him nevertheless, piercing eyes staring directly at him on one knee with that look on her face which was total uncompromising. She closed her mouth and didn't look away from him.

"C'mon Chris, your partner needs you. Now get up." She told him. He reached out a battered arm towards her which she did no more than regard; she shifted and looked at him still as he felt as if he were fading into unconsciousness or death.

"Chris! Get up, Chris!" She barked at him. Chris moved his aching and battered body, lifting it with arms that felt numb and heavy, he scrambled to get his feet underneath him and stumbled to move forward, failing once but moving along still.

"There you go, that's right Chris!" cried Jill almost gleefully. "You can do it, get to your partner, go." She stood and watched his progress with a half smirk. Chris didn't know how he was on his feet, he was pushing his body to its limits, but he decided to focus on freeing his partner, he knew that they were sealed in a room somewhere directly ahead of him and to the left. He was close fortunately, and he leaned against the wall with every step leaving a mess of bloody smears along the already eerie dark cracked walls.

He limped through the door immediately ahead of him and took a left where he knew his partner was locked in a room to which he had acquired the security key after much peril. Eventually he entered the room adjoining the one in which his partner paced, back to him, in frustration, he could see through a large green glass window and Chris could see the iron bars that had come down over the windows and other side of the door when his partner tripped the security by hacking into the database, the entire reason why they were here in the first place. Chris leaned heavily against the wall and fought to breathe deep, spluttering through blood and his partner turned immediately, rifle raised, upon noticing the commotion.

"Captain!" A smile broke out across his face as Piers shouted and pressed his hands against the glass. "I'm sure glad to see you." He laughed. Chris smiled then groaned in pain as he made his way over to the key reader, stumbling heavily. Piers soon looked intensely worried,

"Captain! Are you ok?" He yelled anxiously, Chris glanced at him grimly and inserted the keycard dreading the next step, he had to crank a wheel in order to release the iron security bars that had come down over the doors and windows, Chris didn't know if he had the strength left to turn the faded red steel wheel but he gripped it anyways. He panted and tried to turn it firmly but it didn't budge, Piers watched his progress with extreme concern.

"Captain…" He said, but Chris paid him no attention and tried to turn the wheel with arms that felt like noodles. He could practically hear Jill or the apparition of Jill or whatever it was encouraging him on and he tried to think of both his past and present partner counting on him as he turned the wheel as hard as he could in his present condition. It was enough to get the wheel moving at last he let out a sharp painful gasp. Piers pounded a fist against the glass,

"Behind you Captain!" He barked and Chris turned around almost falling to the ground. It was only a standard infected corpse which hobbled towards him a little too quickly for comfort, Chris raised his firearm and fired hitting the zombie directly in the head and when it didn't stop it immediately he fired again but found himself slipping to the floor and missed. Chris sat and shot again hitting the zombie in the torso and again in the head which put it down just as its reach was almost touching him. He breathed and cried out in agonizing pain as he wiped blood from his eyes, temporarily in a haze.

"Captain! Are you ok, Chris?!" Piers yelled and pounded on the glass furiously which shook Chris out of his momentary stupor. He clambered sloppily to his feet and began the work of turning the crank again knowing that where there was one infected zombie more would surely follow.

It took ages until the red caged light finally turned green and the bars were back in their original safe positions. Piers practically busted down the door once they were gone and rushed to his captain's side.

"Fuck, Captain…" Piers mumbled examining Chris' injuries and supporting him. "Here it isn't much but it'll hopefully make you feel better." He used what little was left of a green herb mixture to heal Chris, it wasn't even half of an herb left and it didn't do much for his pain but it made moving and standing much easier. Chris coughed and spluttered more blood, "We need to get out of here right now before the place is hit with more BOWs. We need to get you out of here." He said shuffling to support Chris so that they could walk, Chris stumbled and shook his head.

"Thanks Piers…" He said as they crouched down, "But I…" Piers' attention snapped to him. "I'm not… I can't… I think I'm done. You'd better go without me." He rasped finding it hard to meet his young partner's gaze. Piers shook his head fervently.

"No way Captain, there's no way I'm leaving you to die here. Especially not after you just saved my ass in the condition you're in. Now come on, we need to get the hell out of here now." He stood and forced Chris to stand with him. Chris yelled out in pain and frustration.

"Damnit Piers listen you can't carry me out of here just go. I'm as good as dead Piers just go please… I…" He coughed more and Piers began to walk with him out the way they came in, it was a long way to go and a hard way ahead. Piers leaned him up against a wall while he opened the next door and made sure all was clear. After he dispatched any remaining creatures he came back and tried to lift Chris again.

"Piers just leave, it's an order." Chris resisted, "I'm only going to get you killed too." He said breathing heavy. Piers looked at him angrily,

"Well, _sir_…All due respect but you might as well forget it because that's an order I'm not going to follow. You can either cooperate and help me get us the rest of the way out of here or you can be stubborn and really get us both killed but I'm not leaving your ass behind no matter how I have to get you out." He snapped tensely. "I'll drag you out if I have to…" Piers added as he reloaded. "If we can get to the heliport Leon is gonna rendezvous with us and we can get you help. Now are you with me, Captain?" He held out his arm to him and Chris couldn't help but feel sentimental for his partner. Piers wouldn't abandon him down here; Chris almost could have smiled through the immense pain he felt bearing down on him. He looked up at him and had to wipe more blood out of his face. He winced as he reached up to grab Piers' arm and Piers pulled him up.

Piers tried to begin walking but Chris broke away to try to walk on his own against the wall, Piers just rolled his eyes and jogged on,

"I'm gonna go see what's up ahead and try to make it easier for us to both get out of here unharmed, you follow and it'd be a lot easier if you'd let me help you so we can get out fast." He said. He gave Chris one last look before he ran out of sight.

"I'll be right up ahead, don't worry." He said once he turned a corner and Chris was leaning against a wall on his own.

Chris hated every minute of this, he knew it hadn't felt right and now he was dealing with the aftermath of a trap. He couldn't believe he'd allowed himself to be set up so easily but at least Piers had hopefully gathered some valuable intel from the security terminals, he wanted to scream and hit something for walking so blindly into an ambush like this one. He stumbled along the wall, trying not to let dizzying unconsciousness overpower him, at least he could move much easier now. He was following Piers' path when he heard gunshots, he knew the sound of Piers' rifle and it sounded rapid and close, it was followed by clashing and banging. Chris picked up his pace and tried to get to Piers as fast as he could making sure he was fully loaded along the way.

The next poorly lit room he went into he saw busted pipes jutting out from a wall and around them Piers was on his back holding back a licker with only his arms, Chris lined up a shot and fired hitting it squarely in the face, it fell off Piers with a thump and he grunted.

Two lickers remained alive and angry, one on the ceiling and one on the floor, both turning their attention to Chris who was leaning against the doorway and still trailing blood, he shot at the one on the ceiling while they reared up and lashed out their tongues menacingly, it took the hit in the back and seemed to just brush it off while the one on the floor leaped at him claws first, he dodged its attack and fired again at the one on the ceiling as he moved out of the way of another attack, it fell to the floor and joined its comrade as they hissed, bloodied saliva dripping between swords of teeth with pink flesh in between them. He landed two shots in one of their heads and fired at the other one and hit its torso, then as one fell back almost defeated the other whipped its tongue and sent Chris' handgun through the air, clattering against the grey concrete wall.

He immediately pulled out his knife, grabbed its tongue while it was in the air to strike him and cleaved its tongue in half. It let out a sharp loud screech and lunged at him, knocking him down to the ground sending an unbearable jolt of incredible pain through his entire body through his back and chest to his legs and arms. He landed on his bruised back and hit his head on the pavement and rapidly felt as though all awareness was leaving him as though through a drain, he fought to keep the monster from ripping his throat out. Piers fired into the monster with his assault rifle after he took care of the not completely dead other. The licker on top of Chris ceased its efforts only after its slow death. A ton of bright ruby blood had spilled from its severed tongue and Chris felt like puking from the foul smell. Chris moaned dully in pain, unable to see or think straight as his vision swam and faded amidst darkness. But Piers was crouching down next to him,

"Chris get up please! Don't black out on me Chris we need to leave, we can make it!" He pleaded desperately trying to get Chris back to full consciousness. He groaned in pain and confusion,

"J-Jill…?" He grunted. He vaguely saw her wavy blue figure standing over him.

"Chris get up, you have to fight." She seemed to say though only Piers was beside him. He found himself fighting to return to the present.

"Captain!" smiled Piers as he saw his partner struggle to sit up, Piers helped him. "Thanks for saving my ass again, let's keep going, I don't want you to die on me down here." Piers stood and put Chris' arm over his shoulder. Chris yelled out in pain, almost bringing hot tears to his eyes. Piers stomach tightened and his forehead wrinkled and furrowed even more with fear for his partner, he knew Chris needed to get to medical attention and fast but he didn't want to cause any more pain or damage. He just hoped that Chris would make it out alive and wouldn't die of blood loss.

"…I don't think I can…" His deep voice was cut off as he struggled to stay on his feet and groaned. "…walk." Piers was beyond worried,

"Shush, just save your strength ok? You're going to need it if we want to make it out of here. You can walk, you can do it come on Chris… please." Piers sounded desperate and the lickers had clawed him as well, he felt his side burn where the long scratches began to ooze blood, he was just thankful Chris was there to make sure they didn't do worse. They'd been battling BOWs almost since they walked into this deathtrap of a place, Piers knew they had been set up and he just hoped the data he had gotten was worth at least some of this mess.

Eventually the two were stumbling along almost out of the research facility which had felt more like an abattoir in hell. Piers grunted and wiped sweat from his brow.

"You ok?" Chris asked through gritted teeth, using his hand against the wall to support him while Piers helped on the other side; Piers grinned widely and let out a sharp breath, his handsome young face looked harsh in the dim fluorescence.

"I'm fine Captain, let's just focus on getting you out of here… we could both use the medical attention." He chuckled lightly as they staggered through the long dark hall, blood spilling from them both slowly. "You on the brink of death… and you still ask me if I'm alright." He gasped. Chris looked down, the seriousness of his own situation suddenly settling in his heart like a ton of bricks. Piers noticed this.

"I didn't mean it that way I just meant… Not that you're near death you know just… It's a-" Chris cut him off, getting agitated and uncomfortable with the way Piers was talking. "It's fine Piers." He said rather suddenly, it startled Piers. "Let's just keep moving." Chris said as a sharp pain made him gasp.

"Right…" he mumbled, trying to pick up the pace. He knew there was a helicopter waiting to pick them up if only they could get there in one piece and quickly.

The facility was hidden in what was made to look like an abandoned warehouse where researchers working with criminals could stockpile inactive BOWs as well as devices, information and other materials involved in the sale of BOWs on the black market. They had finally reached the open warehouse exterior which was barely still standing. Ice cold winter whipped them bitterly and Piers could just make out the area where the helicopter would land once the signal had been fired. Piers laughed though it brought him dull pain.

"We're almost out of here Captain!" He laughed jubilantly. Chris wasn't as interested; he couldn't help falling to his knees. Piers groaned, "Agh, alright you stay here" he said as he dragged Chris to sit up against the cold back wall of the warehouse next to the door they had just emerged from. "Meanwhile I'm sending up the signal flare, just watch our backs, we're not out of the woods yet." He said wishing to himself that their communications equipment hadn't been so damaged by the security inside which released a sort of electromagnetic pulse when he first tripped the security, rendering most of their technology useless. Piers hoped and suspected that the rest of his team was aware of this and were still ready to pick them up. He left the rickety interior of the warehouse through the wide barn-like doors instantly being covered with the cold snowy wind. He winced and doubled over as the cold stabbed the scratch wounds on his side. He snapped himself out of it quickly and he moved forward a good deal into the white nothingness, boots sinking in a foot of soft, cold snow. He used the flare gun and the grey sky was parted briefly by a line of brilliant bright red light and smoke, he watched the flare ascend and with it their salvation.

Piers decided to wait back inside with what little shelter the desolate warehouse had to offer. He looked for his captain, still slumped against the far wall; Piers felt a different iciness start to spread through him as he saw his partner's motionless figure, he sprinted to him.

"Chris!" He barked, feeling a rock hard lump develop in his dry throat. He screamed his name again his voice breaking as he neared Chris' body. He shook him violently and Chris shrieked loudly in pain and confusion. Piers felt half relieved, half guilty at seeing his partner alive but in agony. Chris cursed aggressively looking at Piers and breathing irregularly.

"It's ok Chris, I sent up the signal so we should be getting rescued any minute, just hold on ok!" He said shakily.

"Behind you." Chris choked through his own blood. Piers whirled and saw a pack of grey wolves appear from behind some splintered and smashed crates, their growling dripping maws gleamed and snarled as they came close to the pair. Piers aimed his rifle but he knew he wouldn't have nearly enough ammo to take out all of the wolves or even a quarter of them.

"_Fuck_." He muttered. Chris fired a shot from behind Piers then another and another, two of the bullets knocking down a wolf at least temporarily, Piers began firing sparingly at the largest of them, switching to any of the sprinting wolves that lunged or got too close but was knocked down as two leaped at him simultaneously. The mutated wolves ripped at his arms and stomach with their huge daggers for teeth that would shred through his body armor and layers in a matter of seconds, he kicked and thrashed like hell and tried to get to his feet but the dogs were immense and heavy.

Chris fired five more rounds both at the beasts that were chewing at his partner and the three encroaching on him. The bullets loosened their grip enough to where Piers could slide out from under them and find his knife though he doubted it would do much damage, he slashed the BOW that was gnawing to get to his stomach and the other tried to knock him down again but he set his knife between him and the wolf and its own momentum was enough to drive the knife deep into its stomach. He rolled away and back onto his feet, satisfied that the two would be out of order for some time and snapped his attention to his immobile partner. Half a dozen wolves were crowded around snarling and barking in a half circle around Chris and he couldn't do much, Piers picked up his rifle and sprayed them all careful of his partner and his ammunition but it was depleted by the time he got the wolves off of him.

"Here!" Chris yelled as he threw Piers his shotgun, allowing him to finish off a considerable number of wolves that had turned on him. Two leaped at him again but he sidestepped their attacks and began to fire again when he heard Chris' agonizing yell. He turned, determined to help his screaming partner but one of the wolves jumped on top of him knocking him down and pinning him to the ground on his stomach. He tried to aim and fire nonetheless at the two wolves attacking Chris and managed to kill one but ran out of ammunition before he could finish the other, Chris writhed and fought the wolf and finally broke its neck. Meanwhile the wolf on top of Piers was making short order of his body armor with its teeth and claws and suddenly he felt multiple searing, electrifying lines of pain as the wolf scratched the side of his back he yelped in eye watering pain as Chris' combat knife soared over his head at high velocity and landed embedded directly in the wolf's forehead, splitting it in a disgusting gore. Piers panted heavily, there were still a few wolves circling the two of them.

"…Piers…" Chris gasped breathlessly. It was enough to stir him enough to lift his head off the ground and stagger to his knees. He stumbled to Chris and tried to lift him by the arm but it felt as though his back was struck with lightning and he couldn't help but fall.

"My back…" He cried panting, "My back…" Chris shuffled to him,

"Come on…Piers." He said. "Just get out… of here…" He coughed. The grim, dark red blood looked stark against the thin white layer of snow underneath them. Piers knew he needed to fight to get through this agony like his partner had been doing since before he freed Piers from that room. He swallowed and clambered to his feet as quickly as he could; it wasn't so bad until he tried to lift Chris. He winced as another jolt of pain went through him but he staved it off as they stood and eyed the remaining creatures. Chris mumbled about leaving without him and began to seriously worry Piers due to his increasing heaviness and decreasing movement. Piers had reloaded the shotgun and now he was ready, he shot two of the wolves as he moved outside of the warehouse. He tried to increase their speed as he shuffled through the snow, the last of the creatures at their backs. He could hear the helicopter and it brought him a vast amount of joy, he couldn't help but smile as he spotted the helicopter set down forty feet away.

"Look Chris!" He yelled, "We're saved! Look!" He encouraged but Chris was bleeding and almost completely unconscious. Piers decided he would be exuberant for the both of them as he tried to go faster towards the destination.

He got nearly halfway there when Chris' strength failed him completely, he sunk down and collapsed on the ground. "No, Chris, no! Fuck! Just look at how close we are! Come on, get the fuck up Chris!" He shouted as he tried to hoist him again. His voice broke and tears threatened his eyes as he got no response, not even a 'leave me and save yourself'.

"Wake up Chris!" He yelled, "I'll drag you if I have to! Wake up!" He said through tears. Taking a hold of his arm and pulling. Piers couldn't move much through the snow and biting wind as he dragging Chris' body. Piers tripped and fell flat, not knowing whether or not he would be able to make it to the helicopter, he looked back at Chris' behind him and hoped to god he was breathing and still alive but somehow doubting it. His silent tears froze on his face and he didn't know where to turn next all he knew was that he was not giving up on Chris, not today, not ever.

Piers jumped, startled at the figure that towered over him, he lashed out at its legs at struck a blow.

"Ow geez! What the hell!" He heard the figure over him curse, he strained to see anything in the maelstrom of white and ice.

"This is the thanks I get for trying to rescue you two huh?" He said as he crouched down and Piers suddenly felt small in the strong hands of a robust Leon Scott Kennedy. "Wow you look like you took a beating, kid." He said as he tucked away his rifle and pulled Piers to his feet and pulled down a scarf from away from his mouth, "I almost didn't even spot you there, we've been searching for you two for some time you know, now let's go. Can you walk?" He asked, as he crouched down to Chris.

"Leon?" Piers said, his own tenebrous voice sounding distant to him. Leon was fixating on Chris.

"Geez he doesn't look good at all." He said lowly to himself, lifting Chris' arm over his shoulder after some time and effort. He grunted and glanced at Piers, "Are you just going to stand here all day with those wolves behind you? Or do you want to get the hell out of here." He looked towards the chopper. Piers snapped out of his daze and quickly rushed to help Leon support his incapacitated partner and they walked together towards the helicopter, Leon's fast pace causing Piers to stumble more than a few times. "No offense, but you may just be slowing me down, how about you hobble over to the chopper ok? You don't look so good yourself. I've got him." Leon said over the wind. Piers was reluctant to do so but had no other choice due to Leon's speed. He turned just to see that several wolves were no farther than ten feet away and closing in. He exclaimed in surprise and held up his shotgun, wobbling but ready, as they came closer he shot three direct hits. Piers felt better about buying Leon and Chris time to get to the helicopter.

Two more came bounding towards him and he took out one of them but the wind suddenly picked up and both he and the remaining wolf were forced to the ground, Piers was on his side and scrambled to get up but the wolf was quicker it snarled at him, standing practically on top of him. It growled and barked, unnaturally long jagged claws and teeth inching towards him, tentacles suddenly grabbed him and he yelped out, he tried to grab his knife but after slicing one tentacle off both his wrists were bound by two disgusting grey tentacles. He was so repulsed he might have puked, he never would've imagined he'd be facing off against a monster wolf with tentacles back when he was still training.

He kicked its face and the bruising grip of the tentacles loosened, he took advantage of this opportunity and tried to scramble backwards through the bleak wind and heavy snow, desperately clambering to his knees and reaching for his shotgun, he had just barely grasped it as he felt a thick mass close around his neck sending panic shooting through his head like adrenaline, it jerked his head back and his grip on the gun faltered but he didn't release it. The tentacle tightened around his neck and his oxygen was cut off, he eyes widened in alarm, he turned around to face the massive white wolf, it tightened its grip yet again and he choked receiving no air and feeling as though his whole body was useless and his throat thrummed a steady note of immediate and heart-stopping pain. He took aim as his vision started to grow dark, his eyes fluttered and he fired the shotgun. The buckshot only grazed the wolf, barely hitting but it was enough to tear the shredded tentacle at least off of his neck. The wolf howled in pain and its white fur was now mottled with dark red blood and half its face was only wet tissue and skull exposed. It split its head open to reveal more teeth and meat.

Piers gasped loudly and heavily for air, his throat burned and throbbed, his lungs stung with the large amount of freezing air. He crawled away from the creature as far as he could but it was getting ready to leap at him and do more than strangle him, It's one eyeball completely exposed and pulsating giving it a look of primal insanity. Just as he readied the gun it leap, if he hadn't fired into its gleaming dark vermillion maw when he did, it would have engulfed him in its many sharp teeth along its split head, but he blew it away and in a spray of blood and meat it flew back, dead.

He flopped down on his hands and knees, exhausted and disgusted. He wheezed and tried to breathe deeply, coughing and choking while he rubbed his tormented throat. He suddenly whirled to see four more wolves approaching fast; he was out of ammunition now. He braced himself but suddenly three exploded back in a hail of bullets. The third leapt but was also thrown back by automatic fire; Piers jerked his head up and behind him where Leon stood not far behind him holding his own assault rifle. He quickly rushed to Piers and yanked him up by his arm, Piers had some trouble standing. Leon looked grave,

"Let's get the fuck out of here." He said, Piers coughed nearly unable to speak.

"You came back for me." Piers choked out gratefully. "No need to thank me." He said with a light chuckle and hit Piers on the back amiably sending a rush of throbbing pain through his body and he doubled over. Leon winced as he examined and supported Piers, "I'm so sorry!" he said guiltily, his head snapped up as howling grew louder. "Come on buddy." He said as he started to run, dragging Piers along with him, stumbling and coughing nearly the whole way to the helicopter. Once he was inside he couldn't believe it, it felt like it had been ages since he was able to relax and feel any semblance of safety. He glanced over at Chris; a medic was tending to his various injuries including a nasty one on his head that was probably a concussion, as well as a pierced lung among others, he was still unconscious. The medic put an oxygen mask over his face.

"No, no don't die on me damnit." He barked. Piers sat up in worry and tried to move closer but Leon took a hold of his shoulder.

"There isn't anything you can do to help, Piers, except give him space to work on Chris." He said sadly. "You should take a rest as well you know…"

"Is he going to be alright?" Piers asked, he asked the medic more than Leon but he was busy giving chest compressions. Leon looked taken aback by the question and glanced at Chris. "I dunno… why don't you get some rest?" he said pushing Piers to lie back, Piers fought him but to no avail, it only made Piers become extremely dizzy.

"Leon…" He mumbled. "Don't… let…" Leon looked confused but pushed him back encouraging him to rest. Within minutes Piers was asleep and dreaming of attending Chris' funeral.

A muffled beeping was the first thing he heard when he awoke, it inspired a great fear in him that there was a type of bomb planted somewhere nearby that he needed to disarm, some device set up by bio-terrorists that he needed to deactivate so that he could save innocent peoples' lives. He sat up suddenly but slowly feeling as though there were cement blocks on top of his chest. He coughed violently and gasped for air, something deep inside him protested sharply, he felt as though he couldn't get enough air he kept heaving and rasping. The beeping increased in frequency, only increasing his state of panic.

"Chris, it's alright. Calm down." He quieted his breathing a bit hearing the sweetness of that voice. He looked around frantically, swinging his legs over the edge of the hard bed; he was barely able to see it was so dark. He smelled something like ammonia and chlorine. He panicked. He panicked even more when he felt something soft settle on his arm, out of instinct he withdrew, standing up through what felt like ten times normal gravity, and backing away and reaching for his handgun, his combat knife, any kind of weapon he usually kept but found that nothing was there, fear rose up within him. Then he saw her face, Jill.

"_Jill_?" He rasped, his deep voice hoarse. She smirked at him and he was suddenly extremely self-aware, he felt his face flush and he realized that he did not have much strength, he swayed and stumbled and suddenly Jill was by his side, she helped him back over to the bed and he sat down.

"It's alright Chris, you're in a safe place so just relax. You're in the BSAA recovery ward…" She tried to keep the worry out of her voice but didn't succeed well but he barely noticed. His eyes scanned the room, stomach still seized by the hard grip of alarm. Jill put her hand on his face and he stopped and looked at her, feeling a tingling shock in his lower abdomen that had nothing to do with his injuries.

"Just breathe, that's it. Don't worry." She smiled softly. He swallowed nervously and began to feel a little bit more at ease, his eyes downcast. He winced as another sharp pain spiked through him and the heaviness on his chest grew, he doubled over in pain. Jill stood and helped him get lying down in bed, muscles still stone and tensed as ever.

"You need to calm down, take deep breaths. Your body took a beating… Just relax would you? Or does someone here need to drug you to make you relax, hmm?" She threatened. He was in too much pain to pay her much attention but he gripped her arm,

"No. Don't." He managed to say. She looked down at him, eyes shining. No, that couldn't be, not Jill. He touched her with both hands.

"Is that really you Jill?" He asked lowly, his throat was raw and his voice was like gravel. She sat on the bed and hugged him lightly, barely touching him for fear of hurting him even more. He felt her shudder and put his arms around her as well, pulling her closer to him even though it pained him enough to make his eyes sting.

"Uh-huh. It's me alright." She whispered evenly. It was night, he noticed the darkness of the tiny room illuminated by only the cool silver light of the moon outside the window. Besides his bed there was only medical equipment and a solitary square cushioned chair where it was obvious Jill had spent quite some time and had most likely been sleeping before he had awoken. She pulled away and wiped her face, he had never seen Jill this way before, she was as much of a warrior as he was and he only ever seen her as that, a strong warrior and he knew his view of her wouldn't change even if she cried a thousand tears.

He knew Jill had been recuperating from the events in Africa when Wesker had brainwashed her into a slave, she was still on leave while he had been on his mission in Europe. She sighed,

"I'm sorry…Your injuries were so bad. You know… you died Chris, almost twice." She explained. He blinked, not knowing what to make of it.

"Is Piers ok?" He asked anxiously. She nodded silently, which sent relief coursing through him. After a long pause he replied:

"Well… At least I'm not a zombie." He remarked with a slight smirk. At first Chris was more scared of Jill's reaction than he ever could've been about any flesh-eating creature but after a while she eventually smiled and looked down with a slight giggle.

"You're an ass Chris." she murmured and he felt his tense muscles loosen a bit though he couldn't seem to shake the feeling of alarm he felt when he woke up and despite his best efforts to hide it Jill still sensed it but then, Chris surmised, that's what happens when two people are partners over the course of so many years. He sat up again putting his feet off of the edge of the bed as if to get off but Jill stopped him, he slouched in defeat.

"What is it Chris? What's wrong? I told you this is a safe place." Jill said carefully. He shook his head and immediately regretted it as his head began to swim dizzyingly, his head pounded and he groaned. She put one arm around his back and grabbed his arm, minding his wrist. He put his head in his hands.

"You see…" She started to say demurely, "This is exactly why you need to rest and take it easy." Chris lifted his head to look at her and sat up.

"You want me to _'take it easy'_? After all the shit we've both seen, can you really ever just take it easy?" He replied. "How am I supposed to take it easy, how do you take it easy? I'm not even sure what that means anymore after… _everything_." He said wistfully as if to no one in particular. She drew back, he hadn't meant to sound harsh but his head felt like it was being pounded on by a stone and he thought that she would understand after they had both been doing this for so long.

"Yeah, well… I know it isn't easy but you have to Chris. If you come out of a mission in the condition you were in, you can't expect to just get right back up again and expect your body to be totally fine without any downtime." She said bitterly.

"What are you mad at me for being injured?"

"Of course not, I-"

"I just thought you of all people would've understood why I can't just relax like everything is fine, after The Mansion, the Zenobia, and Kijuju-" He was interrupted by an extreme shortness of breath along with a coughing fit. Jill got up and started to gather her things and stood at the doorway then she turned to look back at him, he held out his hand, still coughing and wheezing for breath.

"See you, Chris…" She said reluctantly, anger fading into sympathy as she watched him struggle for breath and then try to stand.

"Wait…" He rasped, still trying to get up. "I'm s-" he was again interrupted by shortness of breath. His bandages were dripping blood. Jill threw her things down hurriedly.

"Will you just lay down now before you tear something or something." She said. "This is why I wanted you to try to take it easy. Or am I… Or are your partners and I the only ones who actually care about your health?" She stated aggressively gesturing at his bleeding wounds.

"…I'm sorry. I didn't mean… I know that you're right but…" He gasped. Her heart softened for him upon hearing his sincere tone.

"Ah, don't worry about it." She replied after a minute, she sat next to him, "You don't ever usually act like that. You're in a lot of pain I'm sure..." She looked at the blood dripping down his side and chest. She reached for some clean wipes and started to clean up the blood a little bit, seemingly transfixed by his musculature as his sculpted and scarred body moved with his erratic breathing. She shook her head and snapped out of it, avoiding his gaze and slightly embarrassed. He looked down at her, trying to hide a grin.

"Your hair is back to normal. It looks good this way." He remarked at the darker color, unknowing of what caused him to. She looked as if she didn't know what to make of that. He began to get worried he'd overstepped his bounds. "I mean… I'm sorry, I just… I didn't mean as in, just, ah…"

"Thanks, Chris." She replied with a small but subtly coquettish smile as he fumbled. He laughed awkwardly sending a sharp pain through his aching body. Jill looked at him with concern but he brushed it aside.

"I'm-I'm sorry." He croaked. She got up, to his dismay, and walked over towards her things. "It's alright." She said quietly, back to him she gathered up her belongings. She turned towards him in the doorway, demeanor classically serious Jill.

He tried to remove the look of worry and apprehension from his face and succeeded. He didn't want her to leave at all but the last thing he wanted was to keep her here because of him, foremost he didn't want her to worry about him. He laid back in the bed as an attempt to ease her worry, she recognized this with a grateful eye though he still leaned forward in her direction. She almost didn't recognize the battered and bruised man who had saved her life and whose life she herself had saved so many times sitting before her in a state so poor. Even through the bruises she could still glimpse the intense but puppy-dog like face of her old partner; she felt something stirring in her at the sight of him that made up her mind that it was time she went home. She smiled weakly at him,

"See you tomorrow. Try to get some sleep, you'll need it." She opened the door and walked partially out, risking one last glance behind her. "Take care of yourself." And with that she was gone.

At first Chris felt a minor wave of loneliness strike him. He sat up in bed but his chest and abdominal pain limited his movements. He sighed morosely to himself and yawned in the emptiness of the room and decided that it was best to do as Jill asked and get some sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

The wind that blew through the Spencer mansion was chilling, not quite freezing but it chilled Chris to the bone nevertheless. The wind that sailed through the dark woods and spindly black branches hanging over the balcony outside brushed Chris' sweating skin. He had never felt so sick to his stomach with terror before, he thought his training would have prepared him for everything and he knew it was there in his rigid muscles and in his mind but he couldn't feel the training, it didn't give him any sense of preparedness or comfort him at all. It was dark then, as dark as he can ever remember it being. Shadows slunk across the walls taking unnatural forms, his breathing caught in his throat as he was hyperaware of every shift and movement around him, the countless creaks and sighs of the vast mansion was a sea of panic-inducing terror.

He stumbled in fright as thunder bellowed near and lightning briefly parted the darkness like the flash of a camera. His throat was dry, he struggled to see anything besides the after-images once the cracked light had faded. Chris' heavy combat boots scraped the faded, frayed red carpeted floor and clunked on the floor underneath as he took few, aimless, nervous steps.

He heard a bloodcurdling groan, tortured, soulless, and filled with primal longing. He raised his 9mm, passively noticing what strangely poor and rusted condition it was in. The shrouded figure shuffled towards him, it took erratic, broken steps and towered over him. He swallowed dryly and took aim at its mangled head, his movements unnaturally slow as if he were embedded in a viscous substance, as if the environment around him wasn't made out of oxygen but something denser yet undetectable.

The zombie's animal groan and gurgle was heard over the sharp click of an empty chamber as he pulled the trigger. Chris found it virtually impossible to take in breath as his eyes widened and he frantically stepped back, glancing at the gun and feeling his belt and chest, desperate for ammunition. He took numerous steps back, holstering his handgun and taking his combat knife out of its sheath fluidly. The knife gleamed a dull silver glint and another chill ran through him as his heart pumped hard and the cold disquieting air of the mansion stood still.

When the creature reached him he was ready, he slashed at its throat and stabbed it powerfully in the heart; it let out a pained sigh. Chris tried to yank the knife free but it cracked and broke and he came away with only the hilt and the short jagged remains while the rest of it remained embedded in the undeterred zombie's chest. He breathed anxiously, his only weapons were useless, he jumped as he heard a loud crash in a neighboring room, undoubtedly a creature throwing itself at the walls. Chris tried to keep his calm as the zombie drew near, he was able to use its own weight against it as he slid around it in the narrow hallway. He jogged away until he came to the door he had come through, the mansion foyer. What he saw undid all his hard work at keeping his head.

The foyer's marble gleamed, splashed with blood. Chris saw bodies, Jill, Sheva, Piers, Barry, Brad, Leon, Rebecca, Josh and Claire all dead, bodies mangled, bloodied, beaten, broken. He fell to his knees and cradled Claire's limp body in his arms.

Chris ached all over, his lungs throbbed for air with each bone-shaking beat of his heart. Tears still filled his brown eyes and as he raised them light pierced them like shards of serrated glass. He was sitting leaning forward and he felt as if he wasn't getting any oxygen at all and everything hurt. He struggled to become aware of his surroundings, all he knew was the rapid thundering of his heart and that mechanical beeping again this time much faster, almost more alarming.

Something gripped his arm, suddenly he became aware that he was crowded which only proved to heighten his unease. He felt as though he could barely see through the beams of sunlight flooding into the room, the beeping continued wildly and noisily as he fought off the objects touching him, restraining him which only seemed to draw more. He fought for breath and understanding as his pain became increasingly present. He grimaced and thrashed as sharp pains shot through his lungs and head. Slowly the memory of he and Piers fighting off the wolves came back to him, the images clear in his mind while the aftermath of the attack wracked his panicking body. The brief but alarming thought crossed his mind that even now when he was away from the threat of the infected creatures they were still taking their toll on him.

All this happened in mere seconds while his distraught overtook him, it wasn't until later that he realized he was fighting off doctors and nurses who were only trying to change his bandages and tend to his wounds. Meanwhile he fought them off violently with his intensive combat training taking over. He succeeded in fighting off the harmless medical staff until his wounds pulsed painfully, demanding to be felt. He yelled out weakly, his body wracked with unrelenting pain. He heard a familiar voice through his convulsions.

"Chris! Chris stop it!" A young feminine voice trilled at him. He recognized immediately his little sister. He snapped his gaze over to her, sunlight bouncing off her bright auburn hair; her sweet familiar face was a welcome sight to him. She tried to calm him.

Chris tried to say her name but he hadn't really ever gotten enough air; he wheezed and coughed as she touched him gently. She felt him shudder as more pain wracked his body. She desperately tried to calm him, seeing him like this was a devastating blow to her heart. His eyes were still filled with the tears of his nightmare, a nightmare that had been taking place directly in front of him, Chris thought the hospital almost felt like more of a dream and his nightmare felt like reality. All he knew, or wanted to believe, was that Claire really was alive and so was Jill and Piers and all of his partners, well, almost all but he refused to think about that at the moment. All he wanted to think about was the fact that his sister was alive and well in front of him, he could feel her warmth, and look in her blue eyes and that was real enough for him.

Eventually Chris calmed down, though his mind was still reeling with the nightmare he remembered so vividly. He looked up and noticed the staff was gone from his room, the thought of what he must have done to the doctors who were trying to help him made his chest even heavier with guilt. He took long deep breaths, as deep and long as his aching lungs would allow for.

"Are you alright?" Claire asked delicately, still in that crooning low voice. "Well, it's clear that you're not but… for now are you okay?" She said just above a whisper. Chris looked at her, his brow was furrowed, he just nodded feeling small, like a child who had just thrown a tantrum. Claire sighed and put her head in her slim hands. Chris felt guilty for putting this weight on her, he never meant for this part of his life to ever affect her at all, his first failure at that being Raccoon City and then Paris and then Rockfort Island and the nightmares she had had to experience there. Chris had felt terribly about this before but now his guilt was only heightened.

"I'm sorry Claire, I am… I never wanted any of this to impact you in any way. I never wanted you involved in any of this and it's my fault you were." He paused, resting his raw throat, he was about to say more when she cut him off.

"Save it Chris, I've heard it before. You're my big brother and I know you care about me but you can't blame yourself for everything that's happened to me forever, I've told you a million times before that I'm an adult and yata yata yata, we've been through this all before. You take the responsibility for everything that's happened when it comes to things like this… you can't take responsibility for everything Chris; you can't put all this on your shoulders! Don't you see what it's doing to you?" She started off calm and quiet but as she spoke she became angrier. He wasn't sure why she was angry with him though. He tried to speak but no words came. She looked at him piercingly,

"You are my big brother and I know you think it's your job to protect me… but then that means it's also my job to protect you too, you know…" She trailed off, her heart visibly breaking for him. He pulled her close into an embrace showing his redamancy and for a short moment he didn't feel any pain.

"I love you too." He said.

"Claire? I need to ask a favor." Chris said lowly, pulling slowly away from her to face her. He paused, embarrassment creeping into his face. She peered at him quizzically,

"What is it? Just say the word." She said kindly. He broke his gaze and looked down at the shining tiled ceramic floor and his feet.

"Just please do not tell Jill about what happened." He said, voice a low drone in the almost silent room, save for the ever present beeps and blips of the medical equipment. Chris could sense the beginnings of his sister's uneasy protests as she shifted beside him. Chris didn't know what else to say other than revealing the depths of his embarrassment and his ambiguous feelings for the BSAA agent.

Chris cleared his throat and coughed, his head feeling slightly fuzzy and his throat feeling still raw and scratched even through a flimsy and ineffective layer of whatever medicine they had given him to purge the pain tried to mask it. He could've thought of a few other issues where the same circumstance would apply if he were interested.

"Jill… Uh… She has enough on her plate as it is, she went through a lot in Africa and… well I know you know that Claire but you weren't there and I dunno… I just don't want her worrying about me when she should be concentrating on recovering from the whole ordeal…" Chris intoned, remarking to himself that sometimes he didn't feel comfortable with the way her name sounded coming out of his mouth.

Chris glanced at her with wide eyes. He already predicted that she wouldn't go along with his request but he didn't quite understand why.

"Well?" He questioned nervously. Her brow was furrowed and she pursed her lips in disquiet.

"I don't know Chris, I mean…" She trailed off for a moment, thoughtful. "I mean it is your body and everything but she cares about you and she wants to help you. And the fact is, you should be worrying about yourself right now too you know!" She said exasperatedly. Chris put his bandaged hand on hers. The concern she felt for him was striking to him.

Out of nowhere a silent flash of sickening white lightning seemed to strike right in front of his eyes. Claire's hand flashed and blood spatters suddenly decorated her dainty hand and arm, Chris snapped his gaze to her face. He could see no real expression other than one of a primal hunger and an emptiness so profound that only a shell could possess it. In the blink of an eye his sister's features were instantly those of a bloodied mutation, an animated corpse whose sole motivation was to feed.

Chris felt a huge swell of uncontrollable dread rise in him like a blooming cloud of smoke, his sympathetic nervous system tried to take over. He snapped his hand off of hers and drew back. He looked at her, aghast, fear clearly written across his face like bold black letters. He looked away after a long moment, closing his bloodshot eyes. Just as he suspected it would be, everything was normal and bright when he opened them again, ignoring Claire's increasingly fervent queries. His entire body had tensed, ready for danger. She gently pressed a hand on his back and again he had to fight to control his body against his sympathetic nervous system which had been trained for countless days and nights to never hesitate, to choose fight over flight before it was too late. She seemed to notice it, she took her hand off of him.

"It's nothing. Would you mind giving me some time alone?" He asked, voice as taut as a zip-line cord. He gave her a transparent smile, she didn't buy it at all but then again he hadn't expected her to. He could barely even hear her, the words she was saying were fuzzy and garbled as if in a thick fog, lost in translation.

"Please leave. Claire." He said kindly but strongly, leaving almost no room for objection. "I just need to be alone, I hope you'll understand." He added, his voice still draw tight like a drawstring. After a brief moment she hurriedly left with a couple of caring words which he tried to return in kind.

When she left he slumped back on the bed, feeling as tense and ready for battle as ever. Chris took shaky breaths. He hid his face in his hands and wondered furiously what the hell had happened. He had really seen her, dead and rotting exactly the same as the things he had faced up close and so many times in the past, congruent in every discernable detail. So identical he could remember every ghastly detail no matter how much he wanted to just forget it and block it all out. His throat felt like it was closing and his chest felt tight and it was hard to breathe. What the hell was happening to him? Was he some kind of freak now, unable to put the horrors of his past to rest?

He lamented silently, unable to shake the damp blanket of depression that he felt slipping over him, unable to shake the thoughts that plagued him. He feared more than anything the thought of not being able to shake loose the memories that clung to him like a dead weight, he feared he would have no choice but to isolate himself for fear of being too damaged to rejoin his peers in normal, everyday life. How could he be around others when just today he had lashed out at imaginary monsters who had turned out to be real people whom his mind had cloaked in some twisted illusion, people who were trying to help him. Chris couldn't fathom the thought of him intentionally hurting Claire, he knew he would never be able to forgive himself, he had been able to control himself this time but who knows what would happen next time…


	3. Chapter 3

Chris drifted uneasily through sleep, not being used to sleeping in a soft bed away from the threat of some horrific outside force. He had trouble distinguishing reality from sleep; his dreams were flitting but vivid, he remembered seeing Jill, her blonde hair whipping around as he held her violently thrashing body, even though it was a dream it felt completely real, his sweat and his breath hitching as her body writhed powerfully against his, her chilling blue eyes searching for him, her perfect face locked in a savage snarl. He still remembered the way her face looked when the crimson light of that bulbous insectile device on her chest reached it. He could still remember how much of a sudden blow it was to him, he hadn't expected it to hurt as much as it did to see her like that. His dream ended abruptly as she kicked him solidly and he was at least happy to not have to relive that again. He groaned awake, his blood still pumping from having the sensations of her lean body surging against his own like the tossing sea in a maelstrom.

Chris sat up stiffly, his body was still aching all over and his wounds were so deep that they still felt fresh after days. He jerked his foggy head up when he sensed a presence in the door, Piers' eyes were downcast when he knocked on the door and after a short pause strode inside the room.

Any other time, Chris would've been delighted to see one of his most trustworthy friends but now there was that niggling thought in the back of his brain that Chris would somehow injure him. More and more Chris found that seeing the people he cared about was a bittersweet experience.

Piers' handsome face looked serious but welcoming as he sat next to Chris, it was unblemished save for a few nasty looking scratches and scrapes.

"How are you feeling?" He asked. The way Piers held himself he looked demure, small, almost as if he were ashamed. Chris tried to smile at him but the way people kept looking at him he guessed he'd looked pretty beat up, he knew however he looked he felt worse.

"Oh, fine. How about you?" He replied, clearing his throat in hopes it'd help his gravelly voice. Piers didn't answer for a long time, he was slouched forward and he peered intently down at the shining linoleum. "… What is it Piers?" He probed, concerned for his younger partner. Piers looked at him, eyes clinquant,

"I'm just… I'm just sorry about everything that happened. I know that if I hadn't been so careless that we could've… I could've-" Piers struggled for words but Chris stopped him, he had to.

"What happened wasn't your fault. It could've happened to anyone, hell it happened to both of us. None of what happened was on you." Chris choked, coughing and wheezing after he spoke. The look of guilt was clear and strong on Piers' pale face. He stood, fumbling uneasily for something, anything he could do to help Chris who only put his hand up to Piers in resistance to any action Piers was about to make.

Chris almost rolled his eyes in annoyance with his stinging lungs as he was afraid his coughing fit had undermined the reassurance he was trying to give Piers about their mission. He knew exactly what it was like to feel like the lives of others were a personal responsibility. That was the last thing Chris would wish on anyone, to have that weight on his mind constantly and not be able to take it off, all that worry and guilt was too much for anyone to handle. He felt a warm wetness stick to his sides and chest under the plain black cotton shirt he wore, part of his hospital attire. He succeeded in shifting to where any dark blossoming stains would be undetectable, his internal musculature panged in protest but he did his best to stiffly brush it aside.

"It's not your fault Piers, we went in there together and we came out together, with you supporting me. And I just wanted to say…" Chris continued with great effort, "Thank you for not leaving me behind, and… yeah." Chris sighed and winced as the air that went into his lungs felt like a million knives, he tried to nonchalantly rub his chest but he knew Piers noticed.

"Don't worry about it." Piers said with a small smile but he kept his gaze on Chris and his hands, Chris knew he would signal a nurse or someone if Chris wasn't careful. He didn't want to mask his pain but he preferred to keep the medical staff out of it. Chris could see how heavy Piers' heart was with what had happened to Chris.

"I should be the one thanking you, if it weren't for you I'd have never gotten out of there." He chortled dryly, finally looking away from Chris' ragged figure.

"You got us both to that helicopter. It was a team effort Piers…" His thoughts drifted back to their original objective. "Did we get any of the data we were after?" He asked intently. Piers glanced out the window, the grey skies outside seemed to give him an abnormal glow, his young and perfect face clouded.

"What little I managed to get before I tripped the security was encoded. I doubt that it'll be of any use." Then as an afterthought, "Fuck… I think we really needed it too, what with black market sales of BOWs going up so much in the past few months." Piers leaned back in his chair.

"They must have known we were coming." Chris said thoughtfully after a pause. Piers stared darkly at the ground. It took Chris a few moments to muster up the courage to speak after he considered what had been happening as of late.

"Uh, Piers?" He said reluctantly. There was something in his tone that drew Piers' concerned gaze. Chris wondered if it was a good idea to mention the things he had been experiencing as of late, he was anxious at the thought of the repercussions. He froze, mentally having talked himself out of it. He fidgeted and rubbed his neck. Piers saw his discomfort,

"What is it?" He prompted, curiously. Chris didn't want to meet his gaze, he grunted,

"Uh… nothing really I was just…" Chris paused, words caught in his throat like jagged wood chips and muck in a jammed machine. Remembering the vivid flashes and nightmares that followed him around like the ghosts of the residents of Raccoon City was painfully easy in the grey twilight.

"Oh, I was just wondering if you, if you had been…" Chris stopped, glancing up at Piers' luminous face. If he had been experiencing the same things that Chris had been over the past few days Chris thought he would see some light of recognition slip into Piers' sharp features, yet Chris saw none. Chris continued before he lost his nerve completely. "You haven't been seeing or hearing anything strange or having any… nightmares?" He asked, more tremulously than he cared for. He liked it even less when he saw Piers' reaction.

Piers leaned back and tried to look indifferent but he couldn't mask the concern he felt for his partner. However, his guise didn't last long. The stiches in his face wrinkled as his face contorted in thought. Chris was glad that his focus seemed to shift off of him.

"I used to have nightmares about this job… it's never easy doing what we do, fighting back the monsters of terrorists and then waking up in the dead of night and your heart is pounding like you've just run a marathon…" He began softly. "My guess is after all this time, seeing the things we've seen, nightmares are inevitable… But I dunno lately, with you," Piers abruptly gazed at Chris with considerable veneration. "And with our mission, it became a lot easier to deal with. Your dedication to fighting for a world without fear and what we have accomplished makes it a little easier to sleep at night." He stated definitively. Piers broke their gaze at last with a slightly bashful look at his feet. "I dunno… but it is important." He said as an afterthought. His mind was clearly working, his eyes were bright and thoughtful.

Chris was conflicted. He fidgeted with the white, sterile sheets. Even though his mind was clouded, he could still process everything Piers said, it gave him little relief and his head pounded.

"As for seeing things and hearing things…" The way in which he left the sentence unfinished told Chris everything he needed to know. So Piers wasn't going through the same things he was, Chris felt suddenly hopeless. "You've been seeing things?" He heard Piers ask. It was as if he was a thousand miles away. Chris looked out the window, the sky was still shrouded in the ephemeral twilight. There was a low susurrus outside as the wind sighed through the leaves on the trees like a spirit passing through.

"Oh, not…It's nothing." Chris mumbled, not allowing the melancholy that had taken over him to envelope him completely. He considered telling him everything, the thoughts and visions that had been roiling in his mind since he had awoken, the stomach-churning feeling he got when he felt like another one of those glimpses were imminent, like he was on a precipice about to tumble down fast and be unable to protect the ones he loved anymore. It was too much for him to bear, he was certain that having too much time to sit and think had only made it worse. It hadn't ever bothered Chris like this before, being out of action and out of the line of fire. It was supposed to be a relief, a weight off his shoulders, but right now he knew that sitting on his ass and doing nothing was only going to make his condition, whatever it was, much worse.

"I just can't be here anymore, I can't just sit here and do nothing." He voiced his thoughts aloud without meaning to. Piers looked quizzical and the lines on his forehead deepened, the alarm clearly growing for his friend.

"You need to rest Chris." Piers searched for more to say but came up empty. Chris ignored this, even as his wounds pulsed dully in rhythm with the beat of his heart. Piers never felt so helpless in trying to console his partner. He didn't know what else he could do, but he knew he had to try to help him. Piers yearned to give him the support he needed, but he didn't know what Chris was trying so badly to get away from. Maybe everything, Piers knew he couldn't try to understand the horrific things Chris had been through before, his past seemed like a virtual playground for nightmares to haunt and torment… could it be possible that everything was catching up to him? And now, with the way he was talking, hallucinations?

He put a hand on Chris' arm. How aggressively Chris jumped at this gesture surprised Piers greatly. Chris closed his eyes and lowered his head, Piers looked like a puppy who was distraught at doing something wrong but clueless as to what.

"Oh I'm so sorry, I really didn't mean-"

"No, I'm sorry Piers, I–" He halted his weary apology as the beeping of the medical equipment hooked into him started beeping faster and more noisily.

"You really do need to rest." Piers said with a nervous glance at the equipment, probably debating on whether or not he should do something but to Chris' relief he took no further action. "And don't worry about it." He smirked humorlessly after a pause as he rose from his chair and hobbled to the door. "You need to focus on your recovery. Please just try to take it easy." He said.

"You sound like Jill." Chris said, a halfhearted attempt at lightening things up before he left. Piers smirked and said his goodbye and was gone, leaving Chris alone.

Three weeks passed since that incident in Russia and Chris' near death and his aim was as perfect as ever. One after one each target fell, shot cleanly through the head or upper torso. It seemed like it had been ages since he had gotten to practice his marksmanship, or his proficiency with the wide array of weaponry that the BSAA had to offer their agents. It felt more than great to be back on that range, firing and hitting targets again and again. Chris knew that he didn't have to feel helpless, he knew he wasn't letting his loved ones down anymore, ever.

He couldn't help but grin as the targets sped across the shooting range. These weren't just stationary paper silhouettes, they were wooden and moved across the range at whatever speed chosen. They had let him go from the recovery ward, they wouldn't release him yet but he was just happy to be out of the belly of that depressing beast. It was refreshing to be able to do what he was doing, asserting control, stretching his legs figuratively as well as physically. He felt like total shit physically, he was on crutches almost all of the time and his wounds still ached and pained him daily but it was worth the stinging in his arms and the pain in his head to be able to see the splinters fly as he blasted holes through the practice targets.

Suddenly there was organic movement under one of the lights above that cast down singular pyramids of yellow light. Chris stopped shooting and leaned over the short wall that separated him from the target space. He knew he was alone in here, there hadn't been anyone practicing in here for hours. Chris felt his blood pumping as his keen eyes searched for any other sign of movement. He briefly wanted to call out, to see who was out there but his instincts overran that weak urge like a freight train of survival. He knew that there was something in the shadows. He could see a spindly dark shape, a blot against the darkness. He raised his weapon and slowly clambered over the short stone counter that separated him from the targets as his gut instinct told him what he needed to know. Chris felt like he could barely contain the adrenaline rushing through him, his senses seemed sharpened as he fixated on locating whatever stygian, hellish creature had infiltrated the BSAA. He was suddenly hesitant; the only time he ever really became so was if there were good reason, it didn't add up. How would a BOW be able to make its way in here?

Chris' heart pounded and sweat stuck to his body. He tried to swallow but couldn't. He hadn't had any more of those frighteningly evocative visions since he was in the hospital. He had been employing the faulty technique of ignoring the issue of the visions and pretending that they hadn't ever happened. It had seemed to serve him well so far, until now…Chris didn't know whether or not what he was feeling now was a just a product of the psychological fear and trauma of the past or if it was something more, something _real_. He knew what his gut was telling him and he had always had nothing but good reason to trust it to this point, it had saved his skin innumerable times. But now he just didn't know.

There was a scraping sound that echoed hollowly on the paved walls and he had no choice but to force his attention back to that shadow. Sweat stood out on his skin and his breathing was harsh. He slowly moved to check behind a target dummy, the thick wood was splintered and ridden with bullet holes. His weapon at the ready, His eyes strained to see anything behind the last row of targets, the triangular columns of light provided enough light to see that there was nothing hiding behind the row of still targets. He let his weapon drop but he still wasn't convinced. His head swam and he was seeing double, he stumbled with fatigue yet he could not let his guard drop.

There were clomping footsteps at the far end of the cement room, he immediately turned and raised his weapon, ready for whatever had come to face him. He faltered clumsily as he looked at Jill's lithe form at the front of the range.

"What the hell are you doing, Chris?" She barked, her tone a little unkind for his liking. He was about to stuttered out a reply but his throat was too dry, he coughed and tried again.

"Uh, I was," He came up short. He was putting all his energy into standing straight, it required more effort than he cared for. He grunted as a shooting pain ran up his abdominal but Jill didn't hear it. "I was just practicing." He called with a charming grin. It didn't fool the partner he had known for over a decade. She swung her lean legs over the low barrier with significantly more grace than he had, she strode over to him but not before, he noticed curiously, holstering a handgun of her own. Maybe she had sensed something here just as he had, he thought with a spark of hope, or maybe she had just come for the same purpose that he had.

"I meant what the hell are you doing out of a hospital and a bed? Are you trying to kill yourself?" She reprimanded coldly but calmly, her voice dangerously even. "What is the matter with you Chris? And why-" She looked around, eyes calculating and sharp as the Executioner's axe, "You're too good of a shot to be this close to the targets anyway. What do you think you're doing being so reckless?" She asked, her anger was chilled and stoic. Chris tried not to show how her remarks affected him. He was silent as he briefly overcame his feelings of hurt. He tried not to lash out at her in defense but couldn't help the nasty and negative emotions that tried to get to him when he heard her tone of voice towards him.

Chris didn't look at her and walked past her as he started toward the front of the range. She whirled on him and grabbed his shoulder, forcing him to face her, her grip was stronger than steel and he couldn't help it when his body partially gave way. He noticed her clenched fists and her accusing face, she looked luminous, beautiful in her anger and concern. She took note of how weak he was in passing.

Chris took a step toward her, towering over her. His muscled frame was a familiar sight to her and reminded her of many missions past as they bantered and combatted the ever-present threats around them. His face was ragged and unshaven and there were circles under his usually bright eyes. It didn't detract from his attractiveness at all though.

He wanted to say something, to tell her what she needed to hear and to get her to quit worrying. He wanted to be mad at her, and a part of him even wanted to tell her about all the terrifying things that had been happening to him but he wouldn't. She glared up at him, anger fading slightly. Her watery blue eyes bore into him from underneath her navy blue cap. Chris had an all too vivid flash of that moment when they'd fought Wesker together, the moment leading to what he believed to be her death but in reality was a much more twisted and horrifying fate. The memory all but played out before his eyes again it was so clear. He closed his eyes and looked down suddenly his guilt crashing down on him again, a weight he could actually feel in his bones and chest, he felt hollow and his shoulders sagged.

Jill put a gentle hand on her dearest friend. The worry coming into her face like a quickly filling porcelain sink. Her eyes were opaque, her lips plump and delicate, her face unblemished.

"Chris? What's wrong?" She paused thoughtfully, "You know you can trust me." She said softly, her voice serious but like a melody. He looked back up at her, his depression and his guilt still felt too real and too crushing. He only hoped that he didn't break down in front of her.

Looking back at her he realized he still felt the way she had beaten and battered him under Wesker's chemically induced spell. He still felt the hot and stifling air of that African cave and the crumbling pillars and how wild Jill looked and acted, his heart still ached from seeing her in that state, and he remembered clearly how much it hurt when she attacked him. Chris tried to clear his head of the images and sour memories yet traces still lingered like ultra-vivid and bitter reminders of how he had let her fall into Wesker's megalomaniacal clutches.

"Chris please!" He faltered and almost fell but Jill caught him as he put a hand to his chest. After a moment he stuttered through ragged breath,

"I'm fine. I know I'm… I'm sorry, I'll be alright." Her stomach churned yet again and she realized she was literally worried sick about him. The gruff familiarity in his voice brought a warm, inexplicable comfort to her along with another flood of desperate worry. She swallowed hard and spoke,

"Chris, you're not fine. Let's go back to the recovery ward." He was slightly doubled over, still holding his chest and grimaced.

"No." He stated simply, straightening up and turning his back on her. "I don't want to go back there, it's depressing and I…" He wasn't sure of what the end of the unfinished thought was or if he should even speak it aloud.

"What is it Chris? You've been acting strange since you got back…" She trailed off quietly as she remembered when she had been informed of Chris' death. She tried to shake off that memory but it wasn't easy shaking off one of the most intense and instantly crushing feelings she'd experienced after receiving that dreadful news, she _never_ wanted to feel like that ever again. She gulped and took a laborious breath. "Chris," she began and by her tone of voice Chris already knew what she would say.

"Please, I don't want to go back there yet. Just let me have a few more hours and then I'll go." Jill sighed heavily, feeling the faint sting of the skin on her chest underneath her clothes where the scars were, the faint pink scars that told a gruesome story. "Jill." She looked into his eyes and there she felt, for the first time in months, like she wasn't alone.

"Please." She had already made up her mind.

"Okay let's go outside at least. The fresh air will do us both some good."

Chris refused her help exiting the firing range, leaving his crutches either forgetfully or purposefully which Jill had to carry but by the time they had made it to the benches outside he was limping and severely out of breath. Jill sighed again, leaned his crutches against the wall behind and they sat down. It was such a windy afternoon, the wind brought with it a slight chill at the edges of the air that brushed their skin. The clouds were dark and it was clear that the evening would bring with it some type of storm, Chris looked up at them feeling a type of unusual connectedness with them. Jill gazed at him as he caught his breath and breathed in the brisk autumn air, his chest heaved up in down in rhythm and he oddly reminded her of a mountain for some reason. She caught herself staring at him again… She looked down at her boots, her elbows resting on her knees, hands dangling, Chris' hands were on his knees and they both slouched as two worn and weary souls.

Jill knew she had to say something about the phone call Piers had given her earlier, she knotted her pale brow completely unsure of how to proceed.

"There isn't much I remember about being drugged by Wesker. It's mostly weird, blurry flashes." She paused, finding it a little less difficult to talk to her closest friend about it but the pain still carried.

"But there is one thing that was constant. It was there whenever I remember things about that awful time when I wasn't myself, wasn't in control of my mind…Chris." She met his eyes, she saw the heartbreak there that he felt for her there but she disregarded it. There was something about the way she said his name. She looked straight ahead of them as leaves sailed and whirled in the wind and fell to the asphalt over and over.

"There were a few times when I thought I couldn't survive it, what he did to me, times when I didn't _want_ to." She swallowed and Chris opened his mouth but briefly, she was grateful for his silence then. "But I never… whenever I came close to you know, not surviving it, there was always one thing I was convinced I could see and hear but I know now that it couldn't be possible." She paused and looked over at him as he looked at the ground. "It was you, Chris." He looked at her quizzically.

"Me?"

"It doesn't make much sense but I saw you there, you were always there like some kind of mirage or something. You always encouraged me to keep going, to keep on fighting and to never give in to Wesker's torment…I guess I kind of failed when it comes to that since he got his drugs into me anyway. The point is that you helped give me the strength I needed to keep going and to live through that. You gave me hope."

She looked at him again, he looked as if he didn't know what to do with this news. When he met her gaze she said, "Look I know it's tough out there doing what we do, I know it can take a heavy toll and the toll isn't just physical, ya know? After what happened to me I never thought I'd be able to face who I was and what happened… I know how it can feel sometimes and I just wanted to say that." She stared off to the side as the wind picked up again and cooled her, she pulled her jacket closer and shivered, shadows crept along the sidewalks and moved with the trees as they bristled with the wind it made a low howling sound which was more soothing than eerie for once, Jill remarked. She leaned back a little, wooden bench cracking loudly in the crisp air and glanced at him. Chris just smiled warmly back at her without meeting her gaze, his poor battered and bruised face a welcoming sight and it was so clear the firm camaraderie that they shared.

"Thank you, Jill… You know this will sound crazy but when I was in the facility in Russia I saw the same type of thing. I saw you like some kind of vision telling me to get up and to keep going." Chris said wistfully. "I was bleeding out, I didn't know what it was but it was definitely you, you were telling me to keep going, that Piers was counting on me." Chris was as baffled as she was, though he didn't show it as much as she did. Now it was as if everything he felt were muted, like he was submerged in some kind of fog. Jill looked at him, puzzled.

"You're serious?" Chris nodded and she knew he was telling the truth, she doubted that it was in Chris' character to lie, especially not to a friend like her and not about anything like this. She marveled, speechless.

"Looks like I'm not the only one who inspires people." He remarked jokingly.

"I thought it was a chemical, a side effect, something in the drugs he gave me maybe." She said quietly.

"Maybe, after all our training, we just know to count on our partner when we're in trouble." His deep voice held a lot of relief and she was glad that they could both relax in the company of a friend.

"Piers called me… worried about you." She told him. He looked away, irritated. He sighed a deep sigh which induced a short but brutal-sounding coughing fit. She winced for him and glanced at her wrist, checking the time. She put a comforting hand on his back and grimaced as she felt the harsh, curt, powerful movements under his skin as he coughed. She didn't want to feel the kind of pain he was in. When he was recovered he rubbed his watering eyes and spoke in a rough voice,

"Piers is just too worried. We talked a little but, agh…" He paused for a bit, eyes scanning the surrounding area, ever the soldier. "He's just worried." Jill looked sternly at him.

"Have you been seeing things?" The susurrus of the leaves skittering across the ground in front of them and the slow, distant roll of momentary thunder were the only sounds after the question left her lips.

It took him a long time to answer, he thought about it as unpleasant memories ran through his mind like the reptilian Hunters he'd fought in the past.

"Not… I'm not crazy. I just…There are times when all I see are…You know, BOWs and zombies and Majini and that kind of thing." He said reluctantly. "I've had these nightmares but they're… it's like…" He closed his eyes. His head felt muddled and unclear, how could he explain this to her without seeming like he was a complete nutcase? He felt so lost. He looked at her to try to gauge her reaction. She looked at him earnestly and seriously, he couldn't read her, big blue eyes fixed and unblinking at him yet it didn't unnerve him. He'd grown used to Jill's manner when they'd fallen into their fast friendship when they'd worked together in the S.T.A.R.S. He knew she was just listening. It gave him enough ease to continue again, still speaking in that choppy and unsure way.

"They really don't feel like nightmares, sometimes they feel more real than when I'm awake… because they just feel like they're really happening and when I'm awake it's like not… it isn't clear what real and what's just…" He shrugged defeatedly, at a loss for words. He worried and cleared his throat, casually rubbing his throbbing chest. She looked away finally breaking that steel stare. Her bare neck showed, her hair pulled back into a low ponytail under her cap. He could just barely see the irregular marks of the device that had been strapped onto her chest all those months ago.

"I know you aren't crazy Chris." It was getting darker now, the breeze became colder, the shadows blended more as they mingled with the dark ground. He scraped his boots and shifted, his ribs crying out in more agitating pangs.

"…But that doesn't mean that something isn't wrong. It's clear that you need help." She said clearly but softly. Her words made him want to squirm with discomfort and go somewhere where he wouldn't have to deal with… what this was. He also didn't know how Jill could be so collected all the time, he marveled at her nerves of steel, to have survived what she did and still be herself, still be so level-headed.

"…And you know that there's plenty around to help right?" She asked. He shifted in discomfort both physical and otherwise, legs protesting.

"You really think that they'll be able to help me with whatever this is?" He asked, voice dripping disbelief.

"Well… you know they'll always try to help as much as they can... If you would let them." She conceded.

"I already talked to Piers… I don't want to put anything else like this on Claire, she doesn't need this on her plate, and neither do you, honestly." He said dully. "You've been through your own ordeal, a lot worse than what I've had to deal with."

"I'll always be here for you Chris." She was quick to say. She bit her tongue, hoping that she wasn't _too_ quick to say so. "And Claire can handle more of our world than you realize, she's in TerraSave now." She defended. He knew that the two were becoming closer friends. He heard Claire's familiar protests coming out of Jill's mouth.

"How did you feel when you were assigned all those shrinks after you got back from Kijuju?" He asked half-heartedly.

"You're right. I hated it. I didn't talk to them." She pursed her lips. "I isolated myself and I got worse." He looked at her sharply.

"I didn't mean-"

"I know, it's okay, it's mostly behind me now. All I'm saying is… don't shut everyone out. _They_ aren't shrinks." She gazed morosely at their feet.

"Listen, it's late. Time for you to go back to the hospital and no buts." She insisted, making it clear that he wasn't going to be able to get out of it this time. Suddenly the gloom of returning to that sad little room crashed down on him but he tried not to show it. She rose and stretched on her tiptoes, she let out a gruff sigh. Chris swallowed hard as her lean form twisted, her muscles lifting her and showing her fit figure, breasts rising under her shirt and hair falling over her squinted blue eyes, he shuffled awkwardly, completely frazzled. He knocked his crutches to the ground as he struggled to occupy his mind otherwise, kicking himself mentally both at being so clumsy and for thinking those thoughts of her. He knelt to pick them up and grunted as dozens of bruised and cut muscles protested painfully. The next thing he knew, Jill was there, crutches gathered in one hand and pulling him up carefully by the arm.

"Thanks." He sputtered through his discomfort. She smiled at him briefly, reminding him, oddly enough, of a bunny.

"Why don't I come with you? It'll be a fun sleepover party. We can watch bad movies and snack." Chris' mood instantly brightened and his pain all but disappeared at the thought.

"Uh, I'd really, that'd-that'd really be just uh-" She chuckled at his stuttering, gladly seeing the relief flood over his face.

"Come on, Chris we don't have all day." It had begun to drizzle lightly and she handed him his crutches and draped her hood over her head. He couldn't hold back the easy smile that came to his lips as they headed towards the dark parking lot.


End file.
